The outstanding parallels between these two critically-acclaimed indie films allows audiences to confront the vast range of emotions associated with the loss of friendship and teaches us that personal growth is an inescapable part of migration.
I’ve always had a fascination for indie films. Due to their eye-capturing colour palettes and slow-paced nature, watching a good indie-film always makes for a delightful evening. Like any other Gen-Z adult, I find new films of various subcultures on social media. Recently doom-scrolling through my Instagram, I came across a reel that brilliantly reflected the parallels between two recently released indie films, Past Lives (2023) and Three Of Us (2022). When viewing the reel’s brief yet powerful comparison, I felt compelled to dive deeper into the content creator’s suggested themes.
Transient Identities
Celine Song’s film, Past Lives, tells the story of a poise, Korean-American writer and story-teller Nora Moon, as she navigates her relationships with her husband, Arthur (John Margrao), and her childhood friend, Hae Sung (Teo Yoon). Meanwhile, Avinash Aruna’s Three Of Us is a captivating Hindi film portraying the journey of Shailaja (Shefali Shah), a hustling family lawyer as she returns to her hometown, Vengurla. Her yearning to reconnect with her past is influenced by the fear of forgetting her beloved youth after being diagnosed with dementia. Similar to the narrative of Past Lives, it explores the intricacies of Shailaja’s relationship with her husband, Dipankar (Swanand Kirkire), and her childhood sweetheart, Pradeep (Jaidheep Ahlawat).
As a Third Culture Kid (someone who grew up outside their parent’s country of origin) it is no wonder both films resonated deeply with me. Due to my migrant upbringing, I found that I was not necessarily rooted in one culture. Instead, my identity has been shaped by the myriad of cultures I have been exposed to. Whilst my cultural identity became obscure, I discovered myself evolving into a more perceptive, independent, and adaptable person. Both films explore similar, transformative journeys.
In Past Lives, Nora is characterized as both South Korean and American, reflecting her cross-cultural identity, for instance, when she is seen code-switching frequently from Korean to English. Nora’s evolution is fascinating to watch following her move from South Korea. She transitions from being a sensitive young girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, to a versatile, creative, and confident young woman with a bright future.
Similarly, Three of Us explores Shailaja’s transformation after moving away from her hometown to one of India’s most happening cities where she takes on the roles of family lawyer, mother, and wife. Returning to Vengurla allows her to reconnect with the uncomplicated girl that she once was; someone who had an insatiable curiosity for the world, and its fervent artistry. Living in both a small town and a large city, she weaves herself into the textures of two contrasting cultures. The two films therefore teach us that personal growth is an inescapable part of migration.
Navigating Friendship and Love
Time and time again, I have faced the struggle of constantly yearning to reconnect with old friends. This is a common experience for young people in transience and is depicted thoughtfully throughout both films. Through subtle yet profound acting, both films hint at unspoken feelings between the protagonists and their childhood friends that have added to the depth of their journey in understanding who they are.
In Three of Us, Shailaja strives to reconnect with a childhood friend, Pradeep (Jaidheep Ahlawat). Following her sudden departure from Vergunla in her youth, she longs for forgiveness from Pradeep. Her trip to Vergunla not only allows her to mend their friendship but reveals that Pradeep and Shailaja had harboured lingering feelings toward each other during their youth.
As the film ends, we witness a bittersweet reconciliation between Shailaja and Pradeep. The two of them are positioned on a slow Ferris wheel which reflects the lifecycle of their loving friendship. The pause of the Ferris wheel mirrors a deep, contemplative discussion between the two in which they exchange long-held resentments, express remorse, and find an opportunity for mutual forgiveness. The resumption of the Ferris wheel is symbolic of the need for two people who love each other to detach from one another, find happiness, and ultimately move forward with their lives.
Past Lives is reminiscent of Three of Us as we witness Nora’s reunion with her childhood sweetheart, Hae Sung. Hae Sung is portrayed as being mellow and soft-spoken and shares very similar personality traits to Pradeep. Celine Song explores Nora and Hae Sung’s relationship through the motif of the Buddhist concept of inyeon. Inyeon, as described by Nora, means providence or fate; but it’s specifically about relationships between people. She says: “I think it comes from Buddhism and reincarnation… if two strangers even walk by each other on the street and their clothes accidentally brush, it could be inyeon. Because it means there must have been something between them in their past lives. If two people get married, they say it’s because there have been 8,000 layers of inyeon over 8,000 lifetimes.” This symbolic referral reincarnation is echoed in Three of Us when Pradeep describes his childhood with Shailaja in saying: “Pichle janam ki baat lagti hain”, meaning: “It seems like something from a past life.”
Both films therefore remind audiences that friendships and relationships often pass through transformations and evolve. Whether or not these connections resurface later on in our lives, our identities are nevertheless intricately shaped by our relationships with others.
More Than Just a Secondary Character
What I found incredibly intriguing is that both films explore the pivotal role of husbands as the female protagonist’s lover and confidant. They explore the emotional journey experienced by their husbands as they witness their wives reconcile with their past.
Arthur and Dipankar mirror the role of nurturing and supportive husbands and offer gestures of compassion towards their wives. In Three of Us, Dipankar oils Shailaja’s hair, gestures typically associated with wives caring for their husbands. In Past Lives, Arthur decides to learn Korean in order to converse with Hae Sung and also better understand Nora. He does not want to experience his life with Nora when she dreams in a language he does not understand. I considered his diligence in learning Nora’s native language as nothing less than a labour of love.
If someone were to read a brief plot summary of the film, they may assume that Dipankar and Arthur were simply secondary characters—insignificant supporting husbands. However, this is not the case. It is true that the two were more suitable companions of Shailaja and Nora after they matured into their higher-selves. But what is particularly intriguing is their anti-feminist nature. Their ability to step down away from being the stereotypical ‘bread-winner’ husband. The two of them are portrayed as emotional, sensitive and caring to say the least.
Despite Dipankar’s portrayal of a mature and understanding husband, he too experiences a sense of exclusion from Shailaja’s past and develops mild jealousy toward Shailaja’s bond with Pradeep later in the movie. He expresses this to Shailaja asking if she was ever happy with him like she is with Pradeep. She responds by saying that not being happy does not necessarily mean that she is sad, but rather that by falling into the routines of adulthood she no longer feels too excited or easily upset by daily events. She explains that this does not necessarily reflect on her relationship with Dipankar, but is merely a fact of adulthood. Shailajas growth teaches us that maturing does not necessarily mean experiencing constant excitement whilst suffering sadness; sometimes it means embracing stability.
Identity, Friendship and Embracing Change
The outstanding parallels between the two films therefore allows audiences to confront the vast range of emotions associated with the loss of friendship—a part of growing up amid migration. Through experiencing this soothing storytelling, I learned the importance of letting go. In an interconnected world where foreign and internal migration is omnipresent, the two films teach a universal lesson. They teach that the light at the end of the tunnel can only be reached by embracing uncertainties and accepting the inevitable evolution of friendship.
Words by Aastha Trivedi
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